Off To The Races
by x.Anaphora.x
Summary: Maggie Conlon is arguably the toughest Newsie in New York. She's bold, brave, brash and the sister to Spot Conlon. It only makes sense that she'd join the strike without thinking. What doesn't make sense is her attatchment to the "Manhtattan Milksops"
1. Routines

**Chapter One :: Routines**

Maggie Conlon had a rather long list of things that she hated. The first thing she hated was injustice, the second sexist pigs, skirts, dresses, and anything girly came in at number three, and number four (which was closely related to three) was being girly. The fifth thing that Maggie hated was morning.

Morning was bright, morning was in your face, and morning was the beginning of a long day full of work. There was _nothing_ enjoyable about it. And it wasn't like she could just avoid the morning, either. Morning was inevitable and inescapable. She had to wake up early, with the sun to get ready and go to work. People needed their newspaper and she needed their money.

But that didn't stop Maggie from lying in bed an extra few minutes to contemplate just what was in it for her if she got up. Of course there was always money, a hard day's work for an honest pay. In the long run, she always got out of bed, got dressed and went to work. But each morning, she imagined the day she could have if she didn't spend all of it peddling papers to those better off than her. It didn't seem fair, but then again, when was life ever fair?

Every day was the same routine. Get up, think about not going to work, get out of bed, meet Clouds to talk about his dreams, wash her face and brush her teeth and her hair, get dressed, then meet Cricket and talk about their upcoming selling route of the day as they walked to the circulation office together. She would then pay her 4 bits, get a hundred papers and spend the rest of the day selling them all with Cricket. It was the general life of a Newsie, and while it wasn't fair, it was hers.

However, one day was different. One day, a slight change to the routine set in motion a course of events that would change the life of Maggie Conlon forever.

It started the same as any other day. Most special, life changing days do. Maggie woke up to the same old bird singing it's song outside of her window. Her eyes protested to her will for them to open. Eventually they gave in, slowly opening to reveal the sight of wooden beams over her head. The thoughts came to her then. _"What would happen if I went back to sleep?" _she thought, to herself. _"If I pretended to be sick, waited for everyone to leave, and then had the whole day to relax and do whatever I wanted. Wouldn't have to deal with Tanzler or any of those other punks." _She sighed. She knew it would be enjoyable for an hour, but the whole day she'd be plagued with thoughts about money, and how she would need to work twice as hard to earn twice as much tomorrow. Maggie sat up and swung her legs over the edge of her top bunk. _"Goodbye, relaxation." _She thought and jumped down.

Her dirty blonde hair flew behind her and bounced a little as she landed, perfectly. She walked down the length of the bunk and followed the stream of Newsies into the bathroom, pushing her way to a free sink. She was wetting a towel as Clouds came up to her left. "Heya Mags, how'd you sleep?" he asked. Maggie wiped her face off with a towel before she answered.

"As good as any nigh', I guess." Maggie said, picking up a hair brush and running it through her hair. "Any dreams, las' night?"

"I was flyin' again. Over the city. I was higher than everyone and could see everythin'. I wen' ova Brooklyn foist. You were fightin' with some goons. Spot was orderin' a buncha boys around. Babble was talkin' this guy's socks off and tha' guy was takin' pictures. Then I wen' ova ta Manhattan. Cowboy was there. He was sellin' papes wit' some o' his Newsies. But then, I wen' ta Da World buildin'. Old Man Pulitzer was there, over lookin' his city. He saw me up in the sky, and I waved at him. Ya know what he did? He nodded ta me. Acknowledged my existence. It felt good." He looked proud of himself.

"You're such a sap." Maggie snorted. She knew it was mean, but people listening in expected to hear something mean from her. She couldn't let on how fascinated she was with the dream. Maybe she'd tell him later if she could remember.

"Well, did _you_ have any dreams?" he asked. He wasn't offended. Clouds knew better than to take her insults personally.

"I nevah do. Always sleep like a rock." Another lie. Maggie rarely didn't have any dreams. She always dreamt about her past. About her mother, about Spot and the other Newsies. She had dreams about her friends leaving her. And her dreams never faded. They stayed with her throughout the day, as vivid as they were when she dreamt them. She began to brush her teeth.

"Somethin' must be wrong wit' your head then. Everyone has dreams." He said. Maggie continued brushing her teeth for a minute, before spitting out the toothpaste.

"Well, I don't." she said simply walking away from the sink. He sighed and shook his head before continuing with his morning routine. He never stopped questioning her about her dreams.

_"Maybe I should give him some fake one. That way he gets his dream, and I get my privacy."_ Maggie considered. She'd develop the thought later, after work. Quickly she slipped on her clothes, and as she put on her hat, Cricket came to her side. Cricket was Maggie's best friend for four years. Almost immediately after he joined, she had taken a liking to him and accepted him as a friend and part of the rest of the Newsies. She was able to share everything with him. Just about.

"Ya ready?" he asked.

"Yeah, let's go." Maggie said, walking down the steps and out the door with him not too far behind. "D'you know where me bruddah is? Haven't seen him all mornin'." Maggie asked.

"Saw Spot leave while everyone else was getting' ready. Don' think he slept last night." Yes. Spot Conlon was Maggie's brother. Not really, they weren't blood related, but he had taken her into the Newsies. He had saved her after she had been abandoned. He taught her to fight and stand up for herself, and helped her become one of the most feared and respected Newsies in Brooklyn. She shrugged and continued the walk, hearing the circulation bell ringing.

"Bettah hurry up. Where d'ya wanna sell taday?" she asked

"Don' know. Thinkin' about leavin' the usual spot. We sold there for the past three days."

"Sounds good ta me." They reached the office, where only a few Newsies. She pushed herself in front of them, Cricket trailing behind. A few boys gave her glares, which she responded to by narrowing her eyes. She'd like to see them try and mess with her. Spot sat at the front of the line, and Maggie scooched ahead of him.

"Heya Spot." She said smoothly. Her brother turned to look at her. The expression on his face was one of cool anger.

"They raised the price." He said.


	2. Raises

_((So as you can see by the preview at the bottom after this chapter the set up ends and the story picks up. Sorry, that it took so long to get out- Jane.))_

**Chapter Two:: Raises**

"What?" Maggie asked with, disbelief, anger and a bit of panic written on her face. How could they raise the price? She needed her money to pay for food, and a place to sleep, not to buy extra expensive papers.

"Upped it las' night." Spot said angrily.

"Can they even do that?" Cricket asked. He seemed more panicked than angry.

"O' coise they can. We're nuttin. Workin' street rats. Dat's all. Why should they care if we starve or stop workin' cuz we can't affoid it, or are livin' on the streets? They got all them scabbers ready to fill our spots. We ain't worth the thought." Maggie said. Her anger taking over as she looked at the still closed window. "I'mma settle this." Maggie said, pushing up her sleeves and walking up to the window. She banged on the door. "Tanzler!" she cried. She banged harder, "Tanzler!"

"Hold your horses! I'm coming, I'm coming!" Tanzler cried from behind the window. She drummed her fingers on the little counter that the newspapers were slid across. She could hear muffled grumbles of "darn girl" and "she's worse than the boys". In a few seconds, the window was opened, revealing Tanzler and his assistant behind the bars.

Tanzler was in his mid to late 50's, clean shaven, and he wore nice clothes. But something about him made her skin crawl. His teeth were tinged yellow, his curly brown hair was speckled with grey, but the creepy part was his smile. It looked as if when he was looking at her, he was thinking of her in an inappropriate, disgusting way. But his eyes never appraised her, they always seemed to look through her, and his face seemed to have a constant look of disdain on it. In order to pay him back for creeping her out, Maggie tortured him in any way she could. "Hello, Maggie." He said.

"Why the jack up Tanzler?" she demanded, fuming.

"Good morning to you too." he said, smiling. Maggie wished he didn't.

"Why'd they jack up the price?" she barked again, gripping the bars in the window.

"Why not? It's their decision. If they decide that a little extra money would be nice, why shouldn't they get it?" h e asked. His smile grew wider at her displeasure. Maggie angrily pushed herself away from the window and back over to Spot and Cricket.

"Unbelievable. They just woke up and decided ta rob us." Maggie said pacing. "I have half a mind to go work in a textile factory, then they'll see what a mistake it was ta raise the price and drive off one a' da best sellahs."

"They'd just get four scabbas to replace you. It wouldn't work." Cricket said. "All of the Newsies would have to leave."

"Or go on strike." Maggie said.

"No." Spot said. "We ain't goin' on strike. If we go on strike, we'd need all the Newsies in New York, and half o' 'em are cry baby/mamas boys and will stick to sellin'. Just get ya papers. I'll figure somethin' out." Spot said walking to the window and ordering his papes. Maggie followed him and slammed her money on the counter.

"Da usual." She said. Tanzler made sure to count out every penny before giving her, her papes. In return, Maggie counted out all 100 papers. Maggie walked away with Cricket close behind reading the headline.

"Trolley strike drags on, and on, and on. I dunno what we're gonna do with this headline. They give us this and expect us to make up for all the money we lose in buying our papes at a new price. Insanity." She said walking over to where Spot was looking over the paper with Hawkeye.

"Any headlines?" Cricket asked the two of them.

"Nothin' we can actually sell a pape with." Spot said as the four continued to go through the pages.

"The World nevah has any good headlines." Hawkeye sighed.

"'Cause o' da war 'tween the papes." A young voice chirped in. Babble stood a little outside the group, flicking through his own Newspaper. Babble was ten years old, and he got his nickname from the way he'd talk forever and always forget to say parts of words. He had a light green eyes and a thick mess of curly brown hair and a splatter of freckles across his nose and face. His left front tooth was chipped, but his smile was dimpled and adorable. Babble walked over to the rest of them. Maggie's blue-grey eyes smiled at him as she returned back to her paper.

"How abou' this?" she asked. "Gunshot near Oakley's leaves owner frightened. With the proppah twistin' it could be good."

"Best I've seen." Spot said. "See ya all back at the lodgin's."

"We should probably get a move on too, if we want to get a good sellin' spot." Cricket said.

"Yeah, you're right. Let's go." Maggie agreed stomping off into the streets.

Maggie stomped around the streets with Cricket. "I can't believe it! Cannot believe that they'd do this to us! We're hard workin'. We sell their papes, with the rotten headlines. We make 'em good money, but now suddenly we're not makin' enough?! I'd like to see them out here sellin' papes."Maggie ranted.

"Well it ain't the end of the world. It ain't that much more."

"Ain't that much more! I didn' think I needed to tell ya how quickly money adds up, Cricket."

"I know, Mags, but ya need to calm down some. You're scarin' off the customers." Maggie looked at him and took a deep breath.

"Fine." She snapped, and they began to sell their papers.

Maggie and Cricket wandered back to the Newsies lodgings with only 5 papers between them. It was relatively good, considering. By the time they were back, a good handful of the Newsies were, including Spot, who was lounging around by the cargo with a few Newsies that were smoking. That was one habit Spot never really got into for some reason.

"Heya Mags, how was ya day?" he called out across the docks. Maggie walked over with Cricket next to her.

"As good as it coulda been I guess." She said. "I ain't up for no games tonight, I'll let ya keep some money in ya pocket. Ya need it now."

"See ya tommora then." Spot said. The look on his face clearly told her he thought something was up.

"Don' worry. I'll be right as rain tommora." Maggie smiled before turning to walk to the lodgings and go to bed. It had been a kind of long day.

**Preview of Chapter 3:: Revolutionary**

Maggie was never late, except the few occasions she sat in bed too long arguing with herself. It was this morning 3 mornings after the Jack-Up that she had tried to figure out if she was making more money than she was spending, or if she really _should _find a new job. As she ran out the door adjusting her hat, something caught her eye. It wasn't the boys coming out of the harbor, finally ready to start their workday, it wasn't the swarm of Newsies heading to the distribution, and it was a group of four boys, coming up to where Maggie was. Maggie smirked, one of them looked f


End file.
